Say You'll Remember
by time.forgets
Summary: Britta knows it doesn't take whips or chains to get into Jeff's dark side, it only takes a cardigan and deep innocent eyes. She never would have guessed that she would get a second use out of that outfit. Jeff/Annie and Jeff/Britta


**A/N: I still don't know where I'm going to post this because it's kind of hard to pick you shall find out but I promise it's not like the last one with mixing up wow okay sorry just finished this and in a strange headspace. OKAY heavy Jeff and Annie but these feelings come up in a decidedly...Jeff and Britta activity. I hope I don't upset anyone with mislabeling it but you're welcome to be upset about the fic in general because I'm still not quite sure what this is...**

**Pairings: Jeff/Annie but canon Jeff/Britta when they were sleeping together.**

**Disclaimer: I wouldn't want to own this see what damage I do just borrowing them!?**

**Jeff POV**

* * *

It's a game between you two, it always has been and you should have just given up because Britta Perry gets under your skin and is too competitive for her own, or your, good. You had thought you could beat her somehow, use your Winger charm and tricks and get under her skin until she finally cracked. You don't know why but you want to see her break; watch as her perfectly constructed mask fell apart. You're sick, you're a sick person to want that but that's where she takes you, this place where you can fuck without consequence and break someone apart and then go about your usual business.

You thought you would push her harder one night; scratch down her stomach more, bite rather than lick and kiss your way down her body. She catches onto your plan because she's Britta and she can always tell what you're thinking when she's naked underneath you. She does moan harder when you bite her inner thigh and pull her hair so she kisses you but there's a smirk on her face that tells you this isn't the end. It tells you that she's not going to forget this, your attempt to go past all her feminism bullshit and really dominate her. At the time it doesn't seem that big of a deal; you don't have any kinks that drive you insane, well at least not any embarrassing ones so you just smirk and slap her across her perfect face to the sound of her chest heaving and moans against your palm.

She doesn't attack until a week or so later and you forget to worry in between. It turns it into a giant surprise when one night she knocks on your door instead of barging in like she usually does. When you finally open it you feel the breath literally leave your body. It's not Britta; well technically it is but she's looking up at you from under wide eyes and dark lashes. She fidgets when you don't let her in straight away and you don't know what to do because your brain isn't working because this isn't Britta. This demur girl with her hair pulled back and pink lip gloss on is Annie and you know at that point that you're completely fucked, know that you never should have tried to one up this woman. She's evil and wicked but she's at your front door with a look like a kicked puppy and she's wearing a cardigan and short skirt and flat shoes and she says your name like a question, like she's still innocent and shy about this. She says it like Annie and you're leaning down in an instant to kiss her, hands so gentle as they slide to feel her tight ponytail, down soft cheeks to cup her face.

You try to be mad at her, the rage and competition that was driving you when you fucked her the other week. You can't. You can't hurt her when her eyes are impossibly wide and longing. Instead you pull her gently inside, lean her against the door and press just enough of yourself against her so she can feel your weight, your desire.

She whimpers your name, pulls back and removes the fucking cardigan she's put on. Your hands are shaking when you move up to take over. You take off her camisole and bra and your hands cover her tits in an instant. You both groan out loud and she's making small high pitched moans at your touch, nipples hardening against your palm.

You want this to last a long time, to take the time you have with An-Britta and revel in as much of it as possible. You want to just go down on her, watch as she squirms above you, wide eyes fluttering before locking with your own. You want it to last forever but she's making small noises now and she's already pressing against you and you know this is going to have to be fast.

You drop to your knees and watch her dark eyes as you undo her skirt. The zipper goes low at the back and you can feel the soft cotton of her panties- light pink- on the back of your hand as you gently lower the skirt. You know it's Britta and that she's doing this on purpose but her legs are so long and pale and soft and she's murmuring things above you, hands fluttering nervously, like she's not sure quite what to do with them. You're stroking up and down her thighs when you decide to grab one, interlace your fingers with hers. Her hands are so small and pale next to your big ones. She's wearing light pink nail polish and as you pull her skirt and shoes off you find out it matches the colour on her perfect toes. Her noises are getting breathier as you kiss up her thigh, letting your hand not intertwined with hers run up the back of her leg, getting so close to where you really want to touch.

You unwind your fingers and pull her panties off, stroking behind her knee, her ankle bone, her calf as you do. Her breath is hitching and you can smell her arousal. The scent is undeniably Britta though so you're standing up, throwing off your shirt and kissing her again. Her lips are so soft and taste like bubblegum. Her tongue flutters against yours in a perfect, shy dance. Your hands have finally found an amazing spot; one running down the curve in her lower back and up and the other teasing her wetness gently. When you finally run your fingers through her she gasps into your mouth before pulling away. Her eyes are wide like when you had kissed her that night, sparkling in the fairy lights the school had set up. You pull her ponytail out, fingers running through the softest hair you could ever imagine. It hangs straight down her naked back and you follow it until she whispers, "please" into the soft of your neck.

You're pulling her to your bedroom then, pulling back your covers and then laying her out like a promise. You start at her the bone casting a tiny shadow across her ankle, travel up her body with tiny kisses until her chest is heaving and her hands are soft and causing shivers at the back of your neck. When you reach her chest and suck a nipple into your mouth her hands move to fist in your hair, not pulling you up, just making sure you're not going anywhere.

You pull a condom out of your bedside and put it on, look at her watching with hooded dark eyes. When you're finally above her she smiles gently and nods, just a tiny movement but you know what she means. You push in slowly; her walls clenching as you do. You stop half way and let her catch her breath, whimpers of pain eventually turning into impatience. When you're finally fully inside her it takes a second for you to catch your breath.

Your eyes are still closed when she rolls against you.

"Fuck," you mumbled and she lets out a breathy giggle, trying the movement again until you're following along with her, hips pushing harder and harder. The sounds she makes are so gorgeous, high and flighty one second and then deep and sensual the next as you change your angle. Her eyes move between wide and locked on your and clenched shut with her back arched. She's so beautiful with sweat-slicked skin writhing beneath you that you wonder how long you can keep this up.

You look down to where you're disappearing inside of her and the sight is addicting. You reach down; feeling gently until you find her clit, brush it with your thumb before pressing down hard. You soak in the high pitch sound she lets out, the shocked moan as she feels the electricity from it. You're so close and you're clenching your eyes shut, picturing her as she writhes beneath you, pictures her hair spread all over your pillow. She murmuring your name over and over and you can feel her lips against the shell of your ear. Her voice is so gentle that you get caught up for a second, run your hands all down her body, feeling as much of her as you can, wanting her to feel you here, feel that you want her.

"Fuck me," you groan into her soft hair and she's moving with you, rolling over so she's on top in an instant. You groan because it's so easy to see yourself sliding in and out of her now sitting on top of you. You wind your fingers into her hair, bring her face close to yours until you can feel her eyelashes brushing your cheek, feel her harsh breathing against your lips.

"Say my name," she whispers against you and you she feels so good around you, on top of you, pressed into you. You go to whisper Annie against her cheek, to say her name forever so she knows that you will never forget her, that she will never be just another girl to you but then she's sitting up, rolling her hips once, twice, hard against you.

"Britta," you finally say and you hope that it doesn't sound as harsh as you feel it. She's riding you hard now and it feels so good but you want the closeness you had a second ago. You want something else.

"No," she orders, stilling all her movements until you groan and try and push up into her. She leans down suddenly, whispering against your cheek in a way that pulls you back to who you need it to be. Her lips feel different against your skin now. They are harder, smirking in a way that means she knows she's won. You don't want this reality shock, you just want her moving above you because you feel so close to coming inside her and you can't wait.

"Say. My. Name."

She's sinking back on you differently, her body new and nervous and you know this is so wrong but it's also what Britta wants. It's gone past your game now and you know it; she's moving slowly and revelling in your gentle touches, the way she can open your eyes and make your heart speed up. You only understand it because you understand Britta, her hatred of herself and how she needs to win and degrade herself all at once. You want to try and undermine her game, to roll over and fuck her until she forgets her fucking game but her eyes are wide and they look hurt and you could never stand to think that you caused so much pain in innocent blue eyes.

You close your eyes and put your head back. You lift your hands up to her hips, run them right up to under her breasts to down her legs. She's beautiful and you can hear her breathing picking up, hear the high quiet noises she keeps letting out as she fucks you.

With one hand on her cheek you finally murmur, "Annie," on a breath as you push deeper and deeper into her. She moans at her name falling from your lips and moves faster until she's yelling your name and her thighs are clenched around your hips. You don't pause because she's coming apart around you and so you thrust up hard, pulling her down from your hand still holding her hip. You come with a yell, her name again leaving your lips like a curse. You keep your eyes shut as you come down, as you feel her relax around you, slide herself off you and to your side. You're breathing hard but you still bring your arm up, brush back her damp hair, and listen to her gentle noises next to you, eyes still closed.

Britta moves before you're ready for her too. You don't know why but you need her to not just smirk at you and leave you in pieces all over your bed. She does anyway because that's the kind of people you are and you finally open your eyes as you here her gathering her things in your lounge.

She comes back to pause at your bedroom door. You look at her; really look at her for the first time that night. She looks younger than she really is, broken in a way that makes you feel ashamed of yourself. There are circles under her eyes and she clings to the cardigan wrapped around her like it can provide more warmth.

You're expecting a 'got you' or some form of teasing so when she opens her mouth to whisper 'sorry' to the still room you feel even worse. Sorry is right. The two of you shouldn't be doing this together because you fuck it up, you're fuck uppers and you will never change that together. You had tried but now she's walking down to her car with the chill seeping through her thin clothes, mascara making lines down her cheeks and you're left alone on your bed, the smell of Annie's perfume still in your room reminding you of something that never happened.


End file.
